This was the first place they’d stayed that wasn’t a dump. It was a good location, small and out of the way. Hard to find if you didn’t know where you were looking…As far as he was concerned, they were here until the whole thing was over.
Which wasn’t long now.
Leaning over Calma, he took one of the charcoal sticks off the dresser and settled back on the bed, laying the book out flat.
Calma shot him an annoyed look but said nothing, returning to his scribbles. Olc gave a derisive laugh and threw one of the decorative pillows across the room. It bounced off Dubh’s shoulder. “What are you drawing over there, Picasso?”
Dubh merely glowered at him and returned to the page. His fingers shook slightly, excitement curling in his stomach as he traced the figures in dark smudges on the page. The deepset eyes, the lines around their mouths. The shape of a face, and the slope of a neck, an arm, a wrist.
As the women slowly came to life on the page, the fire in his chest fanned to life.
He darted another look at the window. Calma insisted on keeping the floral curtains closed, but judging by the brightness of the light shining through the crack, it had to be almost noon.
Not long now.
Soon they would have all of the spell’s ingredients. If it all went well tonight, they would have the rest.
Just a few more hours of waiting, and they would wake her.
Carman would rise.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
DAYNA
“If it’s a resurrection spell they’re doing, they’ll need a powerful lunar event.” The picture of Bronagh wobbled slightly on Meiner’s phone before disappearing entirely. “How do you work this damn thing, Faye?”
Cora grimaced around at the half-empty library. “Oh my god, turn her down, Meiner.”
Meiner jammed her thumb on the volume button, just as Faye shouted in exasperation from the other end, “For Christ’s sake, you’ve got your thumb on the camera, Grandmother. Give it here!”
There was a brief and chaotic shuffling, and the screen pivoted wildly, flashing the ceiling, then Faye’s scowling face next to Bronagh.
“That’s better. All right, listen, they’re running out of time with reporters swarming the town and the gardai investigating. I’ll wager they use the full moon eclipse tonight. If they’re doing a spell of this magnitude, that’s what they’ll be using.”
Tonight. Dayna gripped the books she was holding to her chest, taking a deep, shaky breath. “That doesn’t give us enough time. We’re not ready to fight this.”
“Aye, listen, just get back here, lunch is almost ready.” Bronagh leaned forward, peering more closely at the screen. “Oh, is that Celtic Myths and Legends? Bring it with you.”
“Grandmother, don’t touch—”
The chat winked out, cutting off Faye’s annoyed voice, and Cora snorted. “Good god, I need a smoke. Tell me when we’re leaving.” She stomped out, and Reagan sighed.
“I’m gonna go check out the books. Meet you back at the car.” Reagan disappeared around the corner, and Meiner turned back to Dayna.
“I guess we should put some of these back— Hey, are you okay?”
“We’re not ready for tonight, but we’ve got to stop them.” The image of Margery’s pale face swam before Dayna’s eyes suddenly, and she blinked frantically, gaze blurred by tears. “We can’t let anyone else die.”
“We won’t.” Meiner stepped forward. Catching her arm, she tugged the books out of Dayna’s grip. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”
This was twice she’d lost her composure in front of Meiner now. And this time in public. She couldn’t break down in the library.
“Hey, look at me.”
Dayna blinked, startled, as Meiner slid a finger under her chin, tipping her face back, forcing her to meet her gaze. Meiner’s face wasn’t full of pity, as she’d feared. Instead her expression was glittering and hard. It sent a strange, delicious shiver through her.
“We’ll stop them, and we’ll make them pay.”
For the second time that day she found herself desperately wanting to kiss Meiner King, but this time she waited for one second, two, and it was Meiner who dipped her head down to press her lips against hers, whose fingers tangled in her hair and tugged at the collar of her shirt, pulling her close for one electric moment.
Then there was a shuffle from somewhere behind them, and low voices as people passed by the shelves, and they broke away from each other. This time Dayna knew her face was definitely glowing.
Meiner cleared her throat. “I guess we should get back to the house. I don’t want to leave Gran with the others for too long. I don’t trust her and Bronagh not to scrap.”
Dayna paused. “Oh my god, I just remembered. Before…before we found Margery—” Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to continue. “Sam called me. He thinks your grandmother was the Butcher’s last victim. The one who got away.”
“What?” Meiner’s brows creased. “How does he figure that?”
“When did your gran get that scar on her neck?”
Meiner frowned. “I-I don’t remember, she’s just always had it. It’s not the kind of thing I’d ask her about.”
“We should ask her—”
Coming around the corner of the bookshelf, Dayna pulled up short.
Fiona Walsh was standing between the romance and mythology bookshelves. She was dressed in a stuffy floral-patterned dress that went all the way from her chin to her feet, and she clutched her Bible to her chest, eyes wide.
Shit. Dayna started to turn away, alarmed. This couldn’t happen; the reverend couldn’t be here. Her coven and her home life were never supposed to meet. Each was too complicated, too volatile. An explosion was inevitable.
“Dayna,” Fiona called out. “What are you doing here?”
Her heart sank, and she turned slowly. “Where’s Dad?”
Fiona ignored the question, reaching out to grip Dayna’s arm. “Your father wouldn’t tell me where you were this morning. You have to come back with us. Stay home.”
“Ouch, Fiona, let go.” Dayna tried to tug her arm out of the woman’s pincer-like grip and was alarmed when Fiona only grabbed her other arm and held on.
“No, Dayna—that killer is out there. Come back with us. You need to come home.”
By now her voice had risen enough that other people in the library seemed to have noticed. There was what looked like a book club at the table, all staring at them, wide-eyed.
“Hey, get the hell off her.” Meiner’s voice was curt, and she took a step forward and started reaching for Fiona’s arm.
“Get away.” Fiona’s voice echoed off the nearby shelves, and Dayna gasped as the woman suddenly threw her body back, still clutching both arms tightly. Dayna found herself being dragged away from Meiner, toward the exit. She tried to dig her heels into the carpet. Fiona was painfully skinny, but it was shocking how strong she was.
Fiona managed to drag her past two full bookshelves before there was the sudden loud thumping of footsteps, and Meiner appeared in front of them.
“Let her go.”